Haunted
by Death of a Dark Angel
Summary: "I could feel his eyes on me. Watching me, waiting. With every step I take I can feel his eyes follow me." Claire and Quil were meant to be. Everyone in La Push knew it. But does Claire think so? Anti-imprint. One-shot.
1. there is nowhere to run (until there is)

**Author's note: WARNING! WARNING! This is an anti-imprint story, if you don't like that leave. Also, Quil is a bit of a pervert, so if you don't like it, again, LEAVE. I WILL delete any flames or any review asking "why he is a pervert and that he would never do that". I know, but in this story that was needed so live with it.**

 **I feel that there are not a lot of anti-imprint stories out there from the IMPRINT'S POV, and eve less with Quil and Claire. Personally, I don't have a problem with the concept of imprinting. I was just surprised at the lack of anti-imprinting ones. Anyway, the idea stuck and I ended up with this. A lot of them are either about Emily, or Renesmee, but not so much Claire.**

 **Finally, about Quil. I do like Quil, I do. But this is ANTI-IMPRINT, so I needed to make him the bad guy. The thing with him being a pervert is his inner wolf. I felt that his wolf wouldn't care how old she is. If she started to show signs of being ready to be mated, (which, unfortunately, usually begins for girls at that age, between ages 12-16) then his attitude and emotions would change from brotherly to the way a man feels about a woman. There's nothing too graphic, but it is still not okay. Finally with everyone being the way they are about imprinting, I think they would just assume it's** _ **her**_ **feelings that are changing (since he's supposed to mirror her), not his, and they would think nothing of it. One last thing, in this story, she does NOT know how Emily got her scars, so doesn't know that an Imprint can be hurt by their wolf. (Though it would probably just make her more scared of him).**

 **Enjoy, and R &R. **

I could feel his eyes on me. Watching me, waiting. With every step I take I can feel his eyes follow me. It had been this way for as long as I can remember. His presence always just at the edge of every memory. From my 3rd birthday to junior high dances he is there. Unchanged, un-aging. Waiting for me to grow up so he can finally take me for himself.

I didn't always fear him as I do now. When I was little he used to be my favorite playmate/baby sitter. He's the one who would spent _hours_ playing peek-a-boo and dress up with me because he knew it would make me happy. He's the one who helped potty train me the most. I remember the weekends we would spend at the La Push beach, just collecting rocks, playing in the waves (though it made my parents and Aunt Emily furious).

As I grew a little, I started to think of him as an older brother, a protector. My Quil. He was still willing to spend his time with me no matter how old I got. He was there to make me laugh, to hold my hand when I was hurt, and hold me when I cried because some stupid kid made fun of me. I thought that he was the best brother a little girl could have.

When I hit puberty, things started to change. He was still my Quil, but he was different. I think it was the way he looked at me. I used to find his gaze comforting and familiar. But something in his eyes now bothered me. There was a new…heat. I remember a time when I was about thirteen. My body had just started to develop. I had put on my bathing suit to go down to La Push beach with Quil, like I always did. I had thought for a second as I was walking down stairs that I could feel him _checking me out_. My skin began crawl. My stomach was in knots. This was Quil. I thought of him as a big brother, so the thought of him… _appreciating_ my body was sickening.

I could have forgotten about it and dismissed it as ridiculous if it didn't keep happening. There were times, if I stood close enough, he would run his hand across my waist. It was so light and quick that if I hadn't seen the way his eyes would darken afterward I would think I was imagining it.

It continued like this for the next few years. He doing these little things that made me scared, and I trying to pretend it wasn't happening. I would have told someone what was going on if I thought they would believe me. However, I knew no one would. He never did anything to me physically, something to prove what was happening, so there was no evidence for them to believe me. Besides, I was his imprint. A wolf would _never_ do anything to harm his imprint. He lives to make me happy, to be everything I dreamed. The truth was, he wasn't my dream, he was my nightmare.

I knew what everyone expected. I was supposed to grow up and marry Quil. I was supposed to produce little Quileute warriors and be a stay at home mom. I was supposed to spend the rest of my life taking Emily's place, taking care of the pack and children. That is not what I wanted. I wanted to leave La Push and explore the world. I wanted to go to college. I wanted to have a career that you can't find in a small town like La Push or Forks. I wanted to fall in love the normal way, the human way, and get married to a normal human man. Most of all, I wanted to have dreams. I know that if I stay here, that if I don't escape while I can, I won't get the chance again to live them out.

. My mom knows. She knows I plan to leave the day of graduation. She even helped me pack and bought me plane tickets for across the country. My mom and I have always been able to communicate on a level that no one else can. She's always known what I wanted before even I did.

I think she also knows how I feel about Quil. She never has liked him. I think she found his presence in my life inappropriate. From the beginning she was the biggest protester against him. When he would offer to babysit me she would sneer at him and refuse. If he spent more than a few hours playing with me, she would kick him out. That started the majority of arguments between her and my father, who like everyone else accepted him into my life with ease. My mother is a stubborn woman. The only reason she put up with him this long is because of me. If I hadn't wanted him in my life all this time, she would have been rid of him long ago. ( _She tells me most of this as she drives me to the airport, driving_ _ **90 mph in a 60 mph speed limit zone**_ _. "The mutts are probably searching for you as I speak, we have to hurry before they catch up", she explains.)_ As I said before, she knows me better than I know myself, so I shouldn't have been surprised she was so willing to help me make my escape from them. _(She already had plane tickets and suit case bought!)_

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. At the time, I thought no one would understand _(Though now I wished I had told my mother sooner. I know now she would have taken me away the second she found out. I could have avoided all this grief sooner. Oh well, no point in worrying about that now)._ So for two years I saved up money, I applied to every college as far away from Washington as I could, and I never mentioned anything to any of the pack. Every one of them would have spilled the beans to either Quil, My dad, or Aunt Emily and Uncle Sam.

The entire pack was there at my graduation. As I walked across the stage, waving, I could feel his eyes on me. Watching me, waiting. With every step I take I can feel his eyes follow me. It had been this way for as long as I can remember. His presence always just at the edge of every memory. From my 3rd birthday to junior high dances he is there. Unchanged, un-aging. Waiting for me to grow up so he can finally take me for himself. Now was his chance. And now was my chance.

My heart pounded as I weaved through the crowd. I went unnoticed. The pack wouldn't be able to spot me among the excited parents and graduates, and why would they try to? They had no idea what was about to happen. At last I made it to the car with my mom waiting, all my stuff packed and ready to go.

I arrived to the airport shortly after. The conversation during the car ride made me feel so much better. I was so elated that my mom understood how I felt and was fully on board with my decision. We hugged a long while before my flight was boarding. I wasn't sure when I'd next see my mom, and didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to her. I did feel a twinge of guilt that I wouldn't get to see goodbye to my father. He would be so hurt and confused that I did not tell him I was leaving. But, it was for the best. I knew he would forgive me once he understood.

My flight was called to board. "I love you so much baby girl," she whispered into my ear. She squeezed me to her tighter. I buried my face into her shirt, relishing in her warmth. I tried my hardest to memorize this hug. As I memorized the smell of her perfume, _(a scent that would always belong to her alone in my mind)_ I her whispered back to her, tears in my eyes, "I love you too mom. Tell dad I'm sorry and I love him too, will you?"

"Of course. And he loves you too, and I'm sure he'll understand your decision soon baby girl." I nodded. Taking one last look back at her, I stepped onto the plane, ready to live my life, free from any supernatural chains.


	2. the sudden stop is easy (falling isn't)

' _ **God, she was so fucking beautiful.'**_

His beautiful Claire. His sweet innocent girl. It was past midnight now. He only had a few hours left uninterrupted before he had to leave. Claire's mother made no attempt to hide her distain or him, and would lose it if she had any idea during the last few months or so. Quil mused that he would have freaked out too a few years prior, early on in the imprint. Before the imprint completely consumed the last of his resistance. He long ago gave up struggling against its unrelenting pull.

He studied her sleeping form. Memorizing every feature. From the slight movement behind her eyelids, assuring him of how deep she slept, to the slow and steady rise of her chest, and back to the peaceful expression settled on her face. Being so close to her, knowing she was safe made his inner wolf calm. He grimaced. Well, mostly calm. In just a few more weeks she would finally be his. Staring at his perfect almost-mate, he reminisced how these nightly little visits had come to be.

* * *

 _ **His little Claire-bear had bled for the first time. It shocked him to the core, the terrible spiral into madness that simple, innocent fact would sent him to. She was only twelve for god's sake! She wasn't supposed to be changing this fast. When she ran down stairs for an explanation on what was happening, he caught her scent. The scent of a woman.**_

 _ **As far gone as he already was in the grasp of the imprint, he still felt horrified at the rush of lust that spiked though him at her scent. His mind and body were at war. She was still a child, barely out of training bras, nowhere near ready. He wasn't anywhere near ready. Yet his inner wolf didn't care. The wolf wanted to mate with her now. It considered her a woman now, and howled and raged for its mate. He ran that day. For the first time he could not stand to see or be around Claire. A week passed before he couldn't bear the distance. A week raked with disgust and self-hatred. He did not dare shift in fear of what the wolf would do…and fear of the others discovering his secret.**_

Finally he got his wolf under control and returned to her. However, it only worsened from there. The next few years were torture. He began to notice how…developed she was becoming. The budding flesh beneath her shirt, how her once flat hips now help a slight curve and roundness, the way her hips unconsciously swayed, and the fullness of her lips. Those pink, round lips. His sanity was slipping with each day. He'd never fought so hard against something as powerful as he did his growing urges. Oh, and how hard he fought. He fought and fought his wolf until he screamed his throat horse, pulling his hair until his scalp would burn, and clawed vicious streaks onto himself, smeared with blood that would stay like a stain long after his wounds healed. It was one of the few ways he restrained himself from losing control, by attacking himself instead. He only ever almost lost control _once._

* * *

 ** _It was one day when Claire was thirteen or so. The weather was sunny and warm for a change. From the time that Claire was a toddler they made a habit of going to the La Push beach on days such as this. Claire came downstairs wearing a two-piece swimsuit, and his mind froze It. Shut. Down._**

 ** _God, she was perfect. Those tits, ones that had haunted his dreams, looked as though they could fit perfectly in his hand. Fuck, how he yearned to taste them. And the small delicate curve of her ass…God. His breath stopped. His pulse began racing, and he could feel the wolf pushing just below the surface, ready to pounce. He was_ _so_ _close to touching her. So close to reaching out and tossing her on the couch, and_ _fucking_ _her_ _right there._ _But in that moment before he lost all control, he caught the look in her eyes._**

 ** _She was afraid of him. Her fear drew him back to his senses. Made the wolf hesitate long enough for him to bat him down deep and into its cage. His Claire had saved his sanity. Yet he couldn't find it in him to be relieved. She was scared of_ _him_ _. His Claire was terrified of her Quil. It made his heart clench painfully and his throat grew tight as a lump began to form._**

 ** _He gave strangled smile, hoping they could continue as normally as possible, and forget his bizarre behavior. He was sure he didn't quite succeed form the forced smile she returned, the way she avoided meeting his eyes, and the how she kept a distance from him the rest of the day. Neither of the spoke of it, but from there on an unspoken tension resided between them. It seemed as if Claire was more aware, almost cautious in how she approached Quil._**

* * *

 _Quil, well Quil was in an unrelenting inner turmoil with himself. He was trying to fight his desire, but he was losing more as time carried on. He found himself any reason to touch her. These small, insignificant brushes against her smooth skin soothed him until he had to feel her again. He would resolve to stay away from her. He eventually breakdown and return to his old habits. She would then distance herself from him even more, making it worse. He would then vow to himself to not do it again. It was a brutal cycle of push and pull. After years of this, near her 17_ _th_ _birthday, he gave in, too tired and broken to fight any longer. It was at this time he began to watch her sleep._

 _She was only a few months shy of 18. He prayed for the day to come. She would officially be a woman and he wouldn't have to be filled with self-loathing due to her youth. They would be equals. He could finally be with her the way he_ _ **needed**_ _too._

 _Oh he knew she would be uncertain at first. He could understand how difficult it might be for her to see him as a man instead of goofy 'Uncle' Quil. But he was sure she would begin to see soon how prefect they were for each other. He was utterly devoted to her, he would make her every dream or whim a reality if she so wished. He was her **slave** , hers to do as she wanted with, he would never abandon her, and would be forever faithful. He was created for her happiness. He was so perfect for her, he wasn't even angry at her for her cold attitude towards him these past few month._

 _He knew that she was just stressed out, that she just needed a little space. He understood, really, he did. He totally forgave her for not talking to him. How could he not? After all, she would be completely his in a short time and he would be hers. There would be no separating them once they were together, so he let her have her 'fun'. For now…._

* * *

A groan broke his contemplating. Claire had shifted to her side, probably trying to get more comfortable, still deep in sleep. A soft, gentle smile worked its way on his face. A few stray strands of raven hair fell onto her face. The dark room's only illumination shone through her window, a pearly strand of the glowing orb above. It made her seem ethereal. She was the closest thing to divine as someone as sick and demented such as he would ever get. This exquisite woman child. His fingers itched to touch her, to run lightly against the length of her side, the valley between her breasts, and the elegant arch of her brow. **_'So close…so close…so close….'_ ** A shaky breath escaped his mouth as he reluctantly pulled away. Standing up, he bent down to place a loving kiss on the corner of her mouth. Claire's brow crinkled for a moment, then smoothed. He made his way over to the window in two long strides.

He gazed back at her once more. As he got his final fill, her tantalizing scent clinging to his nostrils, he turned away swiftly. He took a step forward on to the tiny balcony and locked the latch of the window back, erasing all traces of his presence. Seconds later he landed firmly on his feet down the two story height. A quick check of the perimeter told him no one saw his intrusion and escape.

Quil strolled leisurely down the block. A few years ago most of the pack had stopped shifting. The only ones who still did were Jacob and Quil, who had too if they wanted to stay about the same age their imprints. Luckily for Quil, Jacob had left a year ago. Now nobody who could rat out his secret knew. He was in the clear. A pleasurable shudder vibrated though his body at that knowledge. Nothing could keep him from her. Nothing. A dark chant echoed in his head sinisterly.

 ** _'So close…so close…so close…so close…so close…so close….so close…. SO CLOSE.'_**


	3. the storm before the rage

**NOTE: Okay, this story is turning so darker than I thought. But at the same time it feels right. I doubt Quil would forgive her for this, not with how insane he had become, and Claire would never feel sorry for saving herself. And that also stands to the thought that he would lash out at the closest thing he has of her.**

 **I know it is dark already, but I am warning you, this had become M rated for a reason. It will only get darker. I am telling you, there will be** _ **NO**_ **happy ending here. If you don't like that, leave now.**

 **With that being said, enjoy. Read and Review please.**

His mind was in a haze. He couldn't think. All sound and feeling had stopped, the world seeming to tip on its axis. Panic rushed through his veins. _She was gone. His mate was gone. His little Claire was_ _ **gone**_ _._ Everything was wrong. His entire reason for living was just…gone. How could they do this to him? How could _she_? He did everything she ever asked happily and without complaint. He gave up his family, friends, and home to take care of her. Everything he did he did for her. He did it for their future together. Why didn't she see how perfect they were for each other? They were made to be together by the spirit god's themselves. From the day he saw her, he was hers. Hers to do with as she pleased. His every thought was for her happiness and safety. For god's sake, he lost his very sanity to be able to stay with her. And _she betrayed him._

* * *

 _The entire pack was there. It was finally happening. Claire had turned 18 two weeks before, and now she was walking across the stage, on her way to make her first steps into adulthood. Her parents sat closest, camera's ready, with Mr. Young looking on teary eyed, and Mrs. Young's face light with pride. Quil smirked. It never failed to amuse him how opposite they were from a normal couple. While Claire's mother was a real firecracker with a quick tongue, mischievous eyes and smile, Mr. Young was a very easy going man. He was kind and gentle, his patience seemingly never ending. While Mrs. Young would scoff at "chick-flicks," Mr. Young would be the first to be seen crying unashamedly during them. Yet, they seemed perfectly suited for one another. They balanced each other out._

 _As he thought this, he caught Claire's mother's gaze. She threw a smug glance before turning her attention back towards the stage. He growled. That evil witch had tried her hardest to keep him and Claire apart. If she had her way Claire would have been spirited away the moment he set his eyes on her. It seemed that every time he even looked at Claire, she would be there hovering beside him, subtly pushing him away from his girl. It was actually the only thing he ever saw Mr. and Mrs. Young truly argue about._

 _ **"For God's sake Cassie, would you stop? He's not going to hurt her. She's just a baby!" Mr. Young's usually smiling mouth was twisted into a snarl. Everyone was quiet. Emily and Sam stood in the living room, looking lost. Quil himself felt exactly the same. Nobody had ever seen Mr. Young this way. He was the calm and level-headed one. To see him lose his temper this way, in front of an audience, was shocking. Claire was staring up at her parents with wide eyes. Her four year old self had never seen her parents act this way before, and she didn't seem to know what to do either. Immediately he made to move towards her, eager to get her away from this hostile environment. He stopped short as Mrs. Young whirled around, her brown eyes, Claire eyes, burned with rage. Her slender hands were trembling and tightly gripped around the knife she had previously been cutting with, the very tip pointed in his direction. Mr. Young bellowed, "Cassie, KNOCK IT OFF NOW! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" Her head jerked back in his direction. "Have I lost my mind? Of course I have! Look around you! We are surrounded by a bunch of monsters that think they have some sort of right to our four year old daughter! You're right, SHE IS A BABY! That's why it's so sick. Four. FUCKING FOUR YEARS OLD!" The rest was a blur to Quil, but he did remember that it ended in tears and screaming in the Young household.**_

 _The sound of her name being announced broke his concentration. There she was. His Claire-bear was now officially a woman. Finally. He let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. His shoulders relaxed for the first time in what seemed to be decades. He could finally breathe easier. All his agony and suffering had paid off. He could now be with her without feeling like a monster. Quil may stopped fighting the sickness that ran deep in his veins, but that didn't make it any less hard when the quiet horror and self-disgust reared its head from the back of his mind every once in a while. During these moments, when before he dismissed them, he would begin to doubt himself. After all, what 36 year old man looked and thought of a teenage girl this way? In any other situation he would have called that person a pedophile, a sick twisted person who preyed on little girls._ _ **'But aren't you doing the same thing..,'**_ _a quiet voice whispered to him. He might have heeded these thoughts if it hadn't already been too late to stop it. The imprint and his inner wolf always spoke louder to him, making him forget these thought in the first place. Soon, the voice grew silent. And then he was left without any sort of remorse to stop him._

 _The crowd cheered. Her father stood, his voice louder than even the packs, "GO CLAIRE! YOU MADE IT BABY GIRL!" Quil clapped so hard his palms stung. Claire looked at them. He felt the smile plastered on his face fade. She wasn't smiling. She didn't even look like she wanted to be there. He glanced over at her parents, wondering if they noticed anything odd. Mr. Young didn't seem to notice. Mrs. Young looked…..like Claire. She didn't even cheer for Claire, which was weird since she was so proud for her earlier. Her expression was determined, as if she was focused on a mission. Later he would recall this instant and recognize this as the exact moment his life as he knew it was over. But right then he had no clue of what was going to happen, so he ignored it and simply waited for Claire to get off the stage so they could begin their life together._

 _As soon as the ceremony ended the entire field was swamped with happy families and graduates trying to get pictures with everyone. They decided to wait for the crowd to die down, figuring it best to let Claire say goodbye to all her friends. Minutes passed and Quil grew anxious. He hadn't spotted her once since she got off the stage. But he stayed patiently where he was, not wanting to look desperate. Yet after 45 minutes passed and the crowd had diminished to only a few individuals he realized something was terribly wrong. Mr. Young's glowing face had grown tight with worry. At that point the pack decided to split up and search for her. Mr. Young drove home, hoping to discover her there. And Quil? He became frantic. He shifted before everyone and traced her scent all the way out of town._

 _ **No. No. No. No.**_ _ **NO**_ _! This couldn't be happening. She could NOT be gone. Claire couldn't leave him, she just couldn't. It wasn't possible. They were soul mates. Didn't she understand that? He pushed his legs faster. She was not allowed to leave him. If she thought he would just let her leave him behind then she was sorely mistaken. He made an abrupt stop near an airport._

 _It was too late. He realized her scent had faded out. She was gone. He let out an ear-piercing howl. His mind spiraled into agony. A low whine sounded as he fell to the forest floor. He did not move for hours. Time was meaningless._

* * *

Sometime during his despair he had unconsciously phased back, his animal self-unable to contain such intense human emotions. Tears stained his bloodshot eyes. His normally smooth, tan face was blotched a deep red. Quil slowly sat on back on his legs, leaning most of his weight on his arms stretched in front of him. Hands shaking, his eyes closed softly as he tried to bring some clarity to the chaos that was his thoughts. He searched though his memories, searching for the reason of her departure. His thoughts became clearer as one particular face stuck out, insignificant at the time, but oh so important now.

Claire's mother. He had no doubt she was a part of this treachery. She may not have been the one to give Claire the idea to leave, but he was sure she encouraged it. That stuck up bitch had always done her best to get drive a wedge between them. And it seemed as though she had succeeded. She was probably off celebrating as it was. But not for long. Oh no. Soon she would find out just how cruel he could be. She should have been grateful that he had been so willing to let her keep his mate. If he hadn't been so kind, he would have stolen her long ago and left her in a pool of her own blood. Well, the last of his generosity had been shredded, and he was ready for vengeance.

Mrs. Young would pay for this. He would have his pound of flesh. As he phased back, his legs carrying him back to the shithole town, he was grateful for his having the privacy of his own thoughts. No doubt the pack would have tried to stop them. They probably still would if they had any idea of what he planned. Let them. If any of them got in his way, he would murder them and anyone they loved. He didn't want to hurt them, but forgiveness and tolerance was a well that had run dry in him the moment Claire had left. His inner wolf was on a rampage, having been rejected by their mate. The wolf would show no mercy to those opposing him. He was done fighting his instincts. If he had followed them and ignored his human conscience in the first place, Claire would still be with him. And she never would have bullshit with him. The only person he would feel guilty for slaughtering was Mr. Young. The poor man had nothing to do with it, he knew. But he would just get in the way, not wanting his precious wife in harm's way, and to protect his daughter.

His daughter. Oh, Claire. It was time she learned there was consequences for her carelessness. After all he had done to make her happy, and she thought _she could just leave_? A hysterical laugh rose in his throat. Did she really think he would just let her family live as she tried to happily start a life without him? She would regret it. She would regret ever have even _thought_ of leaving. He was done showing her mercy too. He would punish her. He would make sure she never forgot this lesson. He didn't care if she hated him. She would learn life wasn't fair. If life was fair, he wouldn't have to imprint on a two year old, he wouldn't have been inwardly torturing himself to save her innocence. Life wasn't fair. He wouldn't stop even if she begged and cried. She would have her in _every_ way, willing or not. She owed him this, and she would pay her debt. Even if he killed them both trying.

He calmly phased back to his human form. He put on a pair of shots hidden in a tree. His expression was emotionless. Not a hint of the fury he felt showed. His breathing was even. He walked over unhurriedly toward the yellow house that held a group of worried ex-pack members. That included Mr. and Mrs. Young. The corner of his lips twitched upward. He had his work cut out for him. It seemed as though he would be spilling more blood than he originally intended. Oh well. The result was the same. _'It looks as though',_ he thought with dark amusement, _'Claire will be coming home a little early."_

He walked through the front door. He met the concerned and confused gazes of his friends. Finally, his eyes landed on _her_. Her eyes widened as he meet his eyes. Fear flashed in them. He would never know that her fear was from his eyes. His soft brown eyes that had turned black, with no light or life reflecting in them. Only darkness. As Quil closed the door, Mrs. Young felt a chill run down her spine, and her stomach fill with dread. The _click_ of the door closing, somehow, made her think of a prisoner walking the gallows. And as she continued to meet Quil's stare, she couldn't help but picture him the executioner. Time would show just how true her thought was. A tragic prophesy.


	4. the aftermath of hell

NOTE: I wanted to warn you. This chapter has descriptions of violence. If this isn't your cup of tea, leave. I tried my hardest to be somewhat accurate on some things. All the people talking are made up, and some of the officers in the beginning. Sorry if it's wrong, but that's how I chose to write it. I've never seen a real police report, so it won't be perfect. I mixed it up as a police report, coroner's report, and news report. Sorry if it's short. I hope you enjoy. No flames welcome. Read and Review.

 _ **June 20, 11:58 p.m.**_

 _ **Officers arrived at scene due to a call from neighbors about a disturbance. On scene, Sheriff Swan and Deputy Grayson proceeded to knock upon the front door and call out to the owners. The owners did not respond. Suspecting foul play, Swan and Grayson head for the back door while Officers Boyle and Hardin took the front door. At the signal of Sheriff Swan, both doors were burst open.**_

 _ **Inside laid multiple bodies. Decay and scent suggested an estimate of at least a week old. The walls were covered with large amounts of what appeared to be the victims blood. The first body, male, was identified as Samuel Uley, age 37, found by Sheriff Swan and Deputy Grayson. His corpse was found inches from the back door, decapitated. Victim # 1's, severed head was found under the dining room table, approximately 4 feet away from his corpse. The coroner's report mentioned multiple abrasions along his knuckles, arms, and chest that indicate he had fought against his attacker before he died.**_

 _ **The nearest body to Uley's, also found by Swan and Grayson, and was Emily Uley, age 34. Deep puncture wounds to her lower abdomen appeared to be the cause of death upon discovery. She was found sitting against a counter near the back window, hands covering her stomach. Cause of death ruled as severe hemorrhaging . Coroner's report Mrs. Uley as 12 weeks pregnant. Wounds suggest the fetus laid in the direct path of the unknown weapon. Later findings report Mrs. Uley that the actual cause of death had been hemorrhaging from miscarrying.**_

 _ **The next to be discovered, by officer Boyle and Hardin, where Mr. and Mrs. Uley's two sons, Nathan Uley, age 12, and Joseph Uley, age 9. Their corpses were found on the stairway. Joseph died due to blunt force trauma to his head. Nathan had was found only a few steps away from his older brother with a broken neck and strangulation. It seemed as though the boys had tried to escape from their attacker. Officers speculated, from the way the bodies were angled, Nathan had attempted to protect Joseph before they died.**_

 _ **Next found was Embry Call, age 32. His body had been found by the front door, face down by Officer Hardin and Officer Boyle. His throat was torn apart by what looked to be animal teeth. No apparent struggle.**_

 _ **The owners of the home were the hardest to identify. Mr. Young, found by Deputy Grayson, had appeared to have been strangled, and then have his throat ripped out. A portion of the left side of his face was missing, only to be later discovered to have been thrown in the garbage disposal.**_

 _ **Mrs. Young, found by Officer Hardin and Sheriff Swan, had multiple teeth marks on her body. She was found missing multiple fingers and toes. Strands of hair were found scattered throughout the living room. It appeared as though she had been scalped while she was alive, the coroner's report showed, due to the large amount of dried blood on the victim's shoulders and what was left of the victims face. Her teeth had been broken in. The thought to be most obvious cause of death was that her throat had been torn out, along with half of her jaw missing. No parts of Mrs. Young have been found. Speculation of wild animals consuming part of evidence. Speculation that some of the bodies were much older than a week...**_

* * *

 _ **June 22, 8:30 A.M.**_

 _ **Channel 7, Kiro.**_ **Seattle,** **WA, USA.**

"Up next is a brutal murder that happened in La Push, Washington. 7 bodies all in one house. It looks to have been a massacre. Reports show that there were at least two children involved. Currently no arrests have been made. It seems like the police have no suspects as of yet."

"Wow, John. A small town like this has probably never seen anything on this scale before. I hope everyone keeps those families and friends that have lost their loved ones in their prayers."

"You're right Christina. Tragedies such as these don't appear in small towns often. I feel bad for the whole town. Small towns like these often have very close communities. I'm sure everyone is in shock. I hope everyone will be able to come together and grieve for the lives of those lost."

"So do I John, so do I. What's really concerning is that the daughter of one of these poor people has gone missing. No one had seen or heard from her since before the murder. The woman in question is-" _**a school picture of Claire from senior year appears on screen**_ , "-Claire Young, who is 18 years old. She recently graduated, had even applied to the University of Phoenix. A few days ago she went missing. If anyone might have any information, call the number on the screen below. Oh John, this poor girl. She'll be in my prayers."

"Mine too. Hopefully this young woman will be found before too long. Now, onto other news…"

* * *

 _ **June 23, 7:03 A.M.**_

 _ **Radio station 100.3 FM, conversation between radio hosts Mike, Jenna, and Dylan.**_

 **Jenna:** Okay, so I want to talk about something serious for a second. So on the news yesterday was about these people that had been murdered and a missing girl. Police don't have any official suspects, but I heard that they think it was by someone they know. Any thoughts?

 **Mike:** I think it had to have been someone they know. Just the sheer number of those that were killed. What 6?

 **Jenna:** 7 actually.

 **Mike:** 7 people. This guy had to have known them. Otherwise someone might have been able to stop him. No, I say they were surprised.

 **Dylan:** I agree. What I'm I want to know is how. What was this guy, Wolverine? The police reports say these people had teeth marks, ripped out throats, claw marks on the walls. Damn, Hannibal the Cannibal had nothing on this guy.

 **Mike:** Wow, really. Explains some things.

 **Jenna:** Gross. I don't think this guy was a cannibal.

 **Dylan:** Come one Jen, they had teeth marks all over their bodies, and missing lim-

 **Jenna:** That doesn't mean he ate them. Look, if you want to figure out who it is, look at the missing girl. Cora, was it?

 **Mike:** Claire. Claire Young.

 **Jenna:** Claire. She was missing days before the bodies were discovered.

 **Dylan:** So you think she is the killer? Jen, these guys were like steroid junkies. They were huge. There is no way a 120 pound teenage girl could have done this.

 **Jenna:** That's not what I'm saying. I am saying that maybe she was kidnapped by that person. Maybe he black mailed her or something. I don't know. The only thing that is most likely is that they definitely had to have known the killer.

 **Mike:** Hey **,** maybe she was in on it. Maybe she had someone else do the dirty work.

 **Jenna, Dylan:** What?

 **Dylan:** Why would she do it?

 **Mike:** Why does anyone do stuff like this? I don't know.

 **Jenna:** Ugh, because they're _crazy._

 **Mike:** Exactly.

 **Dylan** (shaking his head) **:** Well, that's about all the time we have. Listeners, if you have anything to add to this debate, call in. Playing next is…"


	5. breathe like its your last breath

_**NOTE: Wow, this is the longest piece I have EVER written. About 11 pages just by itself.**_

 _ **First, I wanted to mention the last chapter. It has come to my attention one of the paragraphs had quite a few mistakes. Nathan is the older brother with him being 12. There is no Liam. I was originally going to name one of them that, but changed my mind when I realized I had a family member with that name, and did not want to think of them that way. The younger brother is Joseph, age 9. Nathan was the one who died due to blunt force trauma, while Joseph was strangled. Yes, I know it said broken neck, but his neck was broken while being strangled, so there.**_

 _ **Another thing I want to tell you before you read. Claire is not going to hate Quil the entire time. You have to remember this was once someone she cared for like a brother, so it is going to be hard for her to come to terms as him as her family's killer too. I will tell you this, I know many of you want to see her reaction to her parent's death. Well, I'm telling you now, she will NOT be seeing her parent's bodies. The way they died was pretty awful, and I'm the one who wrote it. I can't quite handle getting into that mindset, so we're not going there. But for those of you who want gore, don't worry, there is some there. Also, there is a surprise I put in there for you. I hope you like it. I almost didn't put it in until last minute, so you're welcome. Hint: it has something to do with Claire.**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy. Please Review. Review do make me update faster. Enjoy!**_

I watched the trees as we rushed past. A painting of green streaks across my vision. Beside me was _him._ Quil. My once protector, brother and best friend. The man who had spent all his free time on La Push beach during the weekends with me. Who always let me have that extra scoop of strawberry ice cream when my parents said no, and who always let me choose the movie, even if it was Disney. Or helped me sneak out to go hang out with my friends. The man who helped me with my chemistry homework even when he had no clue what to do himself. The man who took off work to buy me pads and hot Cheetos, not even caring if he was seen carrying them. I always knew if I needed help, he would be there. He was my Quil.

And, he was also my nightmare. He had destroyed my life. He took everything I loved and shattered me.

 _I had been gone almost a week. The University of Phoenix was perfect. It had live in dorms, great programs, and best of all: it was as far from La Push as I could get. Little to no supernatural creatures would want to be here due to how hot and sunny it constantly was. No vampires, no wolves. I loved it. La Push was always cold and rainy. Here the sun was always shinning, the food was great, and the people were friendly enough._

 _Even my roommate was wonderful. She was definitely a little firecracker. Upon first meeting, she had told me her whole relationship history, her love for photography, and her expectations for me._ _ **("Rule 1, we are NOT leaving our clothes on the floor. I took the liberty to buy two laundry baskets, one for each of us, so I better not see any clothes on the floor. I'll do laundry during the week. You can take the weekend. Rule 2, if you are bringing guys over-" "Oh don't worry, that's not-" "-then at least text me first. Here's my number. If you do these things, then I see no problem. I really hope we can be great friends. Oh, and my name's Ellie.")**_ _She was also obsessed with my dark skin and hair. She herself was pale with pretty red curls, freckles, and grey-blue eyes. Not mention I was 5'6, while she stood at 5'2. We were polar opposites, yet it worked. I could tell from that first conversation we would be best friends. I loved her bluntness (so different from what I was used too) and she loved how calm I was._

 _The classes were even better than I expected. I was so happy. Yet in the back of my mind I was worried. I hadn't heard from my mom and dad. I had really hoped he would forgive me. I wanted to hear from him soon. But what confused me was mom. I knew mom would have called. Dad being mad couldn't have stopped her. But I hadn't heard from her since I left. While I loved Phoenix, I was a little homesick. I'd never left Washington State before, and I really just wanted to hear their voices. I resolved myself to call them that night. However, that wouldn't be necessary. I would get a call from home that night._

 _Ellie and I had just finished our homework a couple of minutes ago. She was sprawled out on her bed. Neon green nail polish in one hand, a soda in the other. "What do you think Bear? Plain or green?" I glanced up from my position on the floor. "Hmm. Green." Ellie clucked her tongue. "That's what I thought." She grimaced. "Ugh, I'm starving. I haven't eaten in forever." I snorted. "You ate two hours ago." She grinned. "Exactly. I'm famished." I only shook my head. For someone the size of a doll, she ate like trucker. I've never seen anyone finish off two double stacked burgers, fries, pancakes, eggs, and hash browns all in one sitting the way she did. The pack couldn't even eat that much. I worried that she might secretly have a black hole instead of a stomach inside her. She groaned. "Well, I'm gonna go get some food. You wanna come?" I shook my head. "Nah, I'm okay. I actually have a stomach instead of endless pit." Grey eyes rolled. "Funny. I'll see you later Bear." I waved before the door closed. The next 20 minutes were spent studying. While Ellie was a good roommate, I quickly learned she was rarely quiet. I had to take the time I got to study._

 _I suddenly heard the familiar ringtone '_ _ **There's No Place like Home.'**_ _I jumped up in excitement. They had finally called. With an eager voice, I answered, "Hello?" There was a pause. Then my stomach dropped at the person who answered. "Hello Claire-Bear." I was frozen. Why was he on my mom's phone? She would never have let him near it…unless dad gave it to him. I didn't have time to get upset about my dad's betrayal before he spoke again. "You know, what you did was not nice Claire. You just left without saying goodbye. Do you know how worried I was?" I was about to snap back harshly, before something in his tone set off alarm bells in my head. I have no doubt that what he said was true. Quil had never been apart from be more than a day, and never more than a few miles. I could picture how worried I had made him. And I did feel bad. While I didn't like the way Quil acted the last few years, he was still important to me. Just not the way he wanted. I was going to apologize eventually, once a few months had passed. I was still willing to apologize to him and explain my actions in that moment to him, yet something about his tone was wrong. It didn't sound like the Quil I knew. He sounded…dark. Almost feral in way. "Yeah, Quil, I had an idea."_

 _"You have no idea." I flinched at the sudden anger. "Look, I'm sorry, I just didn't want-" A humorless laugh cut me off. "No, you're not sorry. Not yet. Not by a longshot." What the hell did that mean? Has he lost his freaking mind? "Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" This guy has seriously lost it if he thought I was going to play his crazy person game. I could feel his amusement though the phone. "There's someone who wants to talk to you." What?_

 _I heard shuffling, and finally a muffled sound. His voice echoed in my ears. "Okay Claire-Bear. Say hi boys." Horror flooded my veins as I heard the sound of sobbing. "Hey! What's going on? Who is this?" A hoarse voice replied, "Bear, please, h-help us P-p-please. H-h-e won't let us g-go unless you come h-h-home. Please, Bear, PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEA-" His pleading was stopped by what sounded to be a slap. I felt tears roll down my face as I too started to sob. "Nathan! Oh god. Nathan, are you there? Nathan!" Quil took control back. "So Claire-Bear, are you ready to listen?"_

 _"What is wrong with you?! How could you do this? They're children Quil!" He chuckled like he does when I ask questions that seem silly. I felt like I was going to vomit. "They are children Claire. And we wouldn't want me to kill them the way I killed their mommy and daddy." His voice turned mocking as he spoke of their parents. I was in shock. It hadn't hit me until that moment that Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily were dead. I knew there was no way they would let him take the kids without a fight, and if they were alive, I would have been notified they had been kidnapped. But my brain just couldn't wrap around the fact. Oh god. What was gonna happen to Nathan and Joseph? And my mom? She just lost her sister…MOM! NO! "Where's my parents? Answer me!" "Now, now, no skipping ahead. It's against the rules. So long as you follow my rules, nobody else has get hurt. I swear it. As long as you do what I say, the boys won't have a hair on their little heads harmed." Words escaped me. Was this all a game to him? Some sort of twisted way for him to get his kicks? "Say 'Yes Quil, I understand.' Do it. Now."_

 _Swallowing, I whispered, "Yes Quil. I understand." I could feel his smile. "Good. Now you're gonna hop on a plane and come back. Don't let anyone know where you're going. If you do, I promise you, the consequences won't be pleasant. And do NOT call the cops." The cops? My pulse picked up. Maybe if I called Sheriff Swan, he and the police department could…"I know what you're thinking. If you do, I'll murder them too." He wouldn't. "If you do that, you'll expose yourself." I had him. There was no way he could be willing to go that far._

 _He snorted. "Do you really think that? Claire,-" I knew he was serious when he dropped the 'bear'-"I don't care if I do. The question is: Are you?" What? "If I phase and murder enough people, the media will have to pay attention. Watching a wolf transform into a man on camera? Even the government can't dismiss that. And it would raise the question, what else is out there? It would give vampires a chance to come out in the open. A whole war could break out, killing thousands. Are you ready to be the cause of that?" God. Only then did the situation fully register when his words finally sunk in. I never thought he would go to such lengths to get me back. The idea that he would expose himself to the world, to bring such horrible knowledge light, frightened me beyond reason. If he was willing to risk exposure, I knew nothing would stop him from achieving his goal. And worse, if he could go that far, then that meant he wouldn't think twice about murdering Nathan and Joseph. Two innocent children. I wanted to hang up the phone. I wanted to call for help, to do something, and nothing at all. I wanted to crawl under my bed and lock the door, to close my eyes and shut out the horrible reality I was currently facing, yet at the same time I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be calm and level-headed so I could think of some way to stop this madness. Most of all, I wanted everything to go back to normal. For this to have been nothing but a awful nightmare. I swallowed thickly, "No. I don't want that."_

 _"Good girl. Now hurry Claire Bear. The boys don't have much time. You have less than 8 hours to get here." 8 hours?! That wasn't enough time for anything. "But that's not enough time! I still have to drive to the airport and book a flight. I don't even have any money. How can I possibly do this in eight hours?" There was not a chance in hell. "Don't worry about money. You won't need it. As for the flight, I already took care of it. Be at the airport closest to you. Your flight's at 11:40." I swung around to check the clock. 8:22. I had 3 hours to get everything done. Before I could comment, he continued on. "Pack only a carry on. Don't worry about the rest of your clothes. And do NOT bring your laptop. Understood?" I gritted my teeth. "Understood." A huff of breath sounded through the line. "Watch your tone of voice. Now for the next part. When you get into Seattle, there will be a car waiting for you. It will bring you straight here. Do not talk to anyone or alert them. Do you hear me?"_

 _"Yes." After a pause, I added, "I hear you." Antagonizing him wasn't a good idea. Best to play along until I could get to my cousins. "Start packing Claire. See you very soon." With that he ended the call._

 _7 hours and 28 minutes later found me standing on my childhood home. For a moment everything was quiet. I studied the house. It felt strange that it could still be the same after everything that had taken place. Like trying to recognize an old friend after years apart. Faded yellow paint (_ _ **dad always said he'd get around to re-painting. He never did**_ _), a white banister porch, wrapping around the house, that dad had built since mom insisted on._ _ **(I could picture it now. My parents were so in love, even while I was growing up, and I firmly believed that dad would have caught a star if it would have made my mom smile.)**_ _I lifted my tired gaze to the second story. No lights were on. No indication anyone was home. I knew better._

 _With a shuttering breath, I walked past my mom's garden and through the gate. As my feet approached the porch steps, I saw a figure move past the window facing the street. My heart sped up. My stomach was twisted in unbreakable knots. When I lifted my hand to the door knob ever so cautiously, the door was wrenched open. I had less than a second to meet familiar brown eyes before I was yanked by my shirt into the house with brute force. The door slammed closed and I hear the click of the lock. My eyes blinked rapidly as I adjusted from the light of outside to the darkness of the house._

 _When my eyes did adjust, I gasped. There was Quil, the front of my shirt bunched in one tight fist, and the other hand flat on the wall behind my head. The sight of him was terrifying and shocking. It looked as though he had stepped out of a horror movie. His usually combed curls were clumped and matted. Darks strikes were dried in his hair. I did not dare imagine what it might be. I was not ready to go down that train of thought yet. He was shirtless. His chest looked like he had a run in with Freddy Krueger. The wounds were jagged and deep. I had a brief thought that they would get infected soon if he didn't do clean them before I shut it down. There was no way I would show any care towards this murderer. He wore a pair of cut of shorts that had gaping holes that too held dark strikes. His feet were bare._

 _What worried me was his face. Never had I seen him look so angry at anyone one, let alone me. His normally smiling mouth was curled back, his teeth bared at me. His eyebrows hung over his eyes heavily as he scowled at me. The biggest difference in him was his eyes. His warm, chocolate brown eyes that usually twinkled when he looked at me were black. I hadn't ever seen eyes such as these. As if the iris had been consumed by his pupils. My veins turned to ice. His eyes felt like...like…staring at death. There was no life in them. They were just empty of all emotion._

 _The sight behind him quickly caught my attention. There, tied to the counter, were my two cousins. Nathan's body was tilted towards Joseph, no doubt trying to protect him. Their wrists were twisted behind them. Both boys stared at me with heart-breaking fear and relief. Tears and snot were evident on their blotched faces. They looked as though they hadn't slept in days. That was most likely the case. I snapped my eyes back towards Quil. He had yet to release me. "Okay, you have me here. I did what you asked. Please, let me go to them. Please."_

 _His face didn't change. He only regard me with those dark eyes. I stayed still, hoping if I cooperated he would let me go. Finally his fist relaxed and he dropped his hand away from me. He gave me a curt nod. At his consent I rushed towards the boys. With speed I wasn't aware I possessed, I had the boys untied and in my arms. The clung to me for dear life. I held Joseph against my chest as he openly cried. Fat teardrops fell from his swollen eyes and landed on my hoodie. I couldn't bring myself to care. Nathan held onto the both of us from behind Joseph, subconsciously still shielding his little brother. He was hunched over, seemingly trying to sink into us, with his face buried I into my shoulder. I had my arms locked around both as best as I could, refusing to let go. I gently rocked them as we all began to cry._

 _When the boys had calmed slightly, I finally noticed something I hadn't seen before. The walls were covered in what could only be blood. Under the table, only two feet away, was Uncle Sam's head. I held in a scream. Fuck. Oh god, oh, god no. I started to tremble. Near the door was a body that I just knew was Uncle Sam's. Mostly due to the face that it was missing a head, and that I'd recognize my uncle's broad shoulders anywhere. Then I saw her. Under the window sat Aunt Emily. Her hands were held loosely against her stomach. Her stomach had looked as though she had been stabbed. I felt sick in my heart. Aunt Emily had a week or two ago that she was pregnant. She was waiting until their anniversary, next month, to tell Uncle Sam as a surprise. Now he would never know._

 _As I stared at them, I realized they must have died days ago. That meant the boys were forced to sit in the same room as the bodies of their dead parents for_ _ **days**_ _, along with the person who murdered them. Pity and hatred filled me. Pity for my poor cousins. Why should they have to pay the price for what I did? It wasn't fair. Hatred for the man who stood across the room watching us. He had ruined not only my life, but the lives of my loved ones. Nathan and Joseph would never see their parents again. For the rest of their lives, they would be stuck with the image of their parents' corpses in their heads. They shouldn't have to remember them that way. And they would have to go through life knowing it was because of me. While I knew it was Quil's doing, I knew that a part of me would always blame myself._

 _I glared at Quil with as much heat as I could manage. He smirked back. "Reunion times over. It's time we had a talk." The boys huddled closer at the sound of his voice. My ire rose further. I wasn't sad at that moment. No, I was furious. "Talk? You want to talk to me after what you have done? How dare you!" I spat back. His amusement dissipated abruptly. "How dare I? HOW DARE YOU!" He roared. Nathan whimpered. Joseph's tiny body shook. I was a little shaken myself. For a second I forgot who I was dealing with. This wasn't my Quil, I reminded myself. This man had murdered the people I loved and was capable of anything right now. I needed to be careful if I was going to get the boys and myself away._

" _YOU LEFT ME! I RISKED EVERYTHING FOR YOU, AND YOU ABANDONED ME! Do you have any clue about what I went through for you sake? I lost my fucking mind Claire. I tore myself apart from the inside out, and lost my sanity trying to keep myself from hurting you. I've wanted you from the time you were thirteen. I fought against every instinct that begged for me to throw you down and fuck you senseless I never wanted to hurt you like that. I even gave up my friends and family to be with you. Did you really think my mom stopped taking my calls over fucking school? No, she was disgusted that I imprinted on a two year old. She told me it was you, or the family. I chose you. I gave up my dreams to be with you. Tell me something Claire, do you really think my biggest dream was to become a busboy at Sue's diner for the rest of my life? Do you?" I didn't reply. I stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. I'd had no clue about any of this. I wanted to shout "_ _ **It wasn't my fault! I didn't want this either!"**_ _, "_ _ **I don't care, and you murdered my family."**_ _And to my surprise, the thing that ran across my mind the most was,_ _ **"I'm so sorry."**_ _Instead, I kept quiet._

" _Well I'll tell you, it wasn't. I wanted to go Stanford, Yale. I could have too. My grades were great and I was so smart. I could have made something of myself, I could have a wife and kids, I could be living far from this shitty town. Instead my world revolves around a selfish, ungrateful 18 year old girl that hasn't got a clue." He gave a hysterical laugh. Words escaped me. While I could never forgive him for the horrendous acts he had done, I began to understand, just a little, of what had cause his madness. I couldn't bring myself to regret not returning his feelings. I couldn't help or control the way I felt. Even without supernatural intervention, I know I wouldn't have returned his feelings. And no matter how crappy his situation was, there would never be an excuse for the pain he created. But to know he had hopes and dreams…like anyone else….was surprising and saddening._

 _I gazed at him with uncomprehending eyes. He seemed to be trembling as bad as I was._ _ **'If he doesn't calm down'**_ _, I thought detached interest,_ _ **'he'll tear us to shreds.'**_ _Honestly, the thought wasn't that bad to think with all that had happened. Maybe then this nightmare would end. But I also realized, when I glanced down at my beyond terrified cousins, I couldn't let that happen. I still had a reason to fight. I had to get us to safety. I silently promised myself that I would take care of the boys. We still had each other._

 _That thought gave power to back to my voice. "Quil…okay. You're right. I don't know. I don't know anything. And I am selfish. I should have stayed, I should have talked to you instead of running away like a coward." He raised an eyebrow in astonishment. I waited with abated breath for him to rebuke my claim. I must have sounded sincere enough because he motioned for me to continue. To my shock, I did feel sincere about what I was saying. Originally I was going to say what I thought he wanted to hear, but the truth spilled out instead. If I had stayed, none of this would have happened. "But Nathan and Joseph have nothing to do with this. They have no clue that I was going to leave. They are innocent. Please. I am begging you, let them go. I promise they won't say anything. And if they did, who would believe them? Let them go, and I will go with you without a fight. I'll stay and be whatever you want. Just let them go. Please Quil."_

 _The corner of his mouth curled upwards. "Really? Is that true boys?" I pleaded with my eyes for them to agree. Just do as he says. The boys nodded their weary heads frantically. "I would love to let the boys go. They were never my targets anyway." My shoulders slumped in relief. Oh, thank god. I gave them one last squeeze before gently rising Nathan to his feet. He stood on wobbling legs. My hand reached out to check. Thumbing away tears, I whispered to him, "Nathan, I want you to look after Joseph. You're a big boy now. I'll be okay. You just take your brother and go. Do you hear me?"_

 _Grabbing his brother hand, he gave me one last hug. As they reached the hallway that would lead to freedom, Quil suddenly blocked their path. Everything inside me dropped and turned cold. My stomach flipped, and my heart raced. No. They slid to a halt by the stairs, not even two feet from him. "You see, I would love to let you guys go. But, unfortunately, you are witnesses. And, well Claire, if we are going to get some distance, I can't have these two telling, now can, I?" Joseph clutched Nathan's hand tightly. I jumped to my feet. Quil snapped his attention towards me. As I put myself between Quil and the boys, I yelled over my shoulder, "Nathan, take your brother upstairs and go out the window. RUN!" Everything happened in under 30 seconds, yet I'll never forget it._

 _Nathan yanked Joseph up the stairs first. Quil sprang into action. He lunged, sending us tumbling to the floor. All the air left my lungs under his immense weight. With one hand, he picked me up by my hair and slung me into the wall. My head slammed against it, and I blacked out for only a few seconds. But it was enough. I regained consciousness just in time to watch him grab Nathan's head, and with one effortless push, crush his head against the steps of the stairway. My mind went blank. Vaguely, I heard screaming. Then, recognizing it as Joseph, I used the last of my strength to look up at him. He stood at the top of the steps. His little face was twisted with grief and horror. "No. Joseph, don't stop go. RUN DAMNIT!" But he stood there. It seemed as though the fight had finally died out. He just stood there, staring at his big brother's body, not even looking away as Quil reached for him. He didn't even look away as Quil began to choke him. He was perfectly still, only thrashing from instinct. As I remember this, I can't help think this the worst part._

 _It wasn't watching Quil, someone we had known our entire lives, strangle a small boy of 9. It wasn't even watching with a morbid shock as his giant hangs tightened around Joseph's small, delicate neck that turned an alarming shade of purple. No, the worst was the defeat and resignation in his eyes and posture. Even when he thrashed, it wasn't from a real effort on his part to escape. Only from instinct. Nobody should just accept dying the way he did, especially at his age. Joseph knew he couldn't fight off Quil or get away. This sweet, innocent little boy saw the inevitable and accepted it when I could not. My mind couldn't cope with it. I couldn't save him, no, I was too far away, and not anywhere strong enough to peel away those unrelenting hands. I couldn't even get up I think Quil had broken my leg when he slammed against the wall. I could only watch in muted pain as he slowly snuffed the light out of Joseph's tearful brown eyes. It was as the last of life left his small body that I began to lose consciousness. My mind could not cope with what had happened. I had lost my family. I was alone with this monster disguised as my once best friend. I watched some I used to care for murder my loved ones._

 _The last thing I saw was Quil making his way towards me, a tender look of his blood covered face. Then, blissful nothingness._

That was days ago. Quil had stolen multiple cars during that time and crossed many state lines. I had no clue where we were, or where we were going. I didn't care. How could I? My life had fallen to shambles around me. Everyone I loved was dead. Uncle Sam, Aunt Emily, Joseph, Nathan, and even Embry. And…my parents. I knew they were dead. I had known from the second he refused to mention them. I hadn't wanted to think about it, didn't want to accept it. But, of course, I couldn't hide from the truth when I heard it on the radio. When I did, well….I hadn't thought I had any more tears to shed until that moment. It was one thing to suspect, but to have it confirmed…

Quil learned quickly to keep the radio off after that. A, short bitter laugh bubbled in my chest. He had destroyed everything, hurt me intentionally, yet he still couldn't stand to see me upset. God, I wanted to cry then. I wanted to make him as miserable as he made me. But I also did not want him to see me upset. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had succeeded in breaking me. And I know that's what he wanted. To break me. And it worked.

But now I was beyond crying or even anger. I was numb. Sure, I could be angry. But what good would it do? Anger is what cause this mess. And I was so tired the violence. I didn't want to be angry. And crying only made me sad and tired. I had cried myself out. Now I was simply mourning. I was mourning my family, I was mourning all the experiences the boys would never have, I mourned the freedom and life _I_ would not get to have. And sometimes, when I had just enough time, I would mourn for Quil. I would mourn the man he was, my friend, and the man he could have been if the supernatural hadn't touched out lives.

I just wanted to crawl ball and sleep. Most of the time though, I just sat and thought. When Quil would talk to me, I would zone out. I kept relieving that day. I thought deeply. I wondered if I could have prevented it. Maybe if Quil had told me sooner about what he was suffering through, we could have talked it though. Maybe if I had tried harder to be strong, to make him understand that I could never love him the way he wanted, I wouldn't have had to leave. Maybe if I had been faster, I could have at least saved one of the boys. Maybe if I had thought faster, if I had been smarter, I could have saved both of them. I thought about the missed opportunities. And I thought about the biggest and most unavoidable thing of all: Quil. I was supposed to blame and hate him, I knew. But I didn't. Because he had been affected and hurt by the imprint too. He had sacrificed himself to the imprint, and nobody knew or cared. And what was left after his sacrifice was the monster, the wolf.

I have had a lot of time to think. And, I truly think that is what he is now. I need only look at his dark eyes. My Quil had warm, light brown eyes. This thing in his place had eyes as black and bottomless as black hole. Not an ounce of the man I knew in them. And that's why I can't hate him. Because it isn't him. I hate the supernatural. If we hadn't come into contact with it, he never would have become this thing. And I wouldn't have lived in fear. Or, now, I wouldn't live with this monster.

These thoughts are the only true thing I have left that are still mine. Well, that, and the knife I swiped from a diner two days ago. I haven't took it out. I did not want Quil to see it. When I took it, I wasn't sure what to do. I thought about stabbing him with it. Because while I don't hate him, I sure as hell do not forgive him. I almost did it. When Quil would not _shut up_ about our future together, how much better it would be. Right then I wanted to take the knife and shove it right through his eyes, eyes that are now just a painful reminder of another person I lost to the beast inside him. I wanted to hear him scream the way my little cousins did when he murdered them, the way my parents and Aunt and Uncle, and Embry probably did. But then logic took control, and my anger evaporated. If I wasn't fast enough, he would break my wrist for trying. Then I would never receive any freedom, or a chance to get a knife again. And if I did succeed, how was I going to get away. We were in the middle of nowhere right now. I would be stuck. Instead, I got into screaming match with him. I told him nothing would be better, it was all shattered. I yelled so loud I thought my voice would break. _**"I WILL NEVER LOVE YOU!"**_ Silence fell, and then he spoke, "Why? Just tell me why? If I had never murdered them, would you have loved me, eventually?" I stared at him. Speaking softly, I replied, "No." He sucked in breath. "Why?" So I told him the truth, something that no one knew, that my mother only speculated on:

"Because Quil, I don't like men. I like girls. I'm gay. "

I could tell I shocked him. He was silent. There were a few times it looked like he might speak, but thought better of it. And really, what could he say? Sorry I murdered your family, if I had known you like vagina, I wouldn't done it?

My spirit dropped further. I thought on how life would be if I did somehow manage to get away. I would be alone in the world. Yeah, I had my distant relatives, the Clearwater's, but how could I drag the back into this? I was never particularly close to my cousin Seth and Leah. Seth due to his imprint living L.A. Angela, I think her name is, didn't really like Sue's husband's daughter's family. Which I understood. I was not a big fan of vampires myself. And Leah, who had not liked me much anyway, I would never do that to her. I knew what it was like to finally escape your supernatural chains, if only for a short while. I wouldn't bring her back into that. And Sue had passed away two years ago due cancer.

A lump grew in my throat. I would never again see my mom or dad. I wouldn't get to feel her wrap her arms around me. Dad would never again call me his "baby girl." I would not get to feel the love of my parents. I wouldn't get experience our infamous Christmas Day get together, because everyone was gone. Not seeing my mom grouch at everybody for nor showing up _exactly_ 10:00, or my dad's loving eye roll and wink at me, or watching Nathan and Joseph run around with their hand-me down toys _(my Aunt and Uncle couldn't always afford new stuff)_ , or, watching with awe as Aunt Emily hitting Uncle Sam with a wooden spoon for eating the last of the casserole she worked so hard on. _**("PIG! THAT WAS FOR MY SISTER! You can do the dishes." We all laughed as Uncle Sam sputtered at Aunt Emily's back that was strutting away, head held high.)**_

I did not think I could make it without them. I had never pictured I would lose them like this, or this early. How would I make it without their love and support? How would I spend the rest of my holidays, if I ever got away? Alone and sad, looking at all the happy families and missing my own with a breathtaking heart ache? Or if I did not escape, I would spend them on the run with the monster responsible for taking them away. Playing house wife too him, on occasion popping out his kids to take care of, stuck in an isolated house or shack no doubt. Vomit rose in my throat that I had to battle down. No. No. I couldn't do this. I was fucked if I did, and fucked if I didn't. There was no situation where I came out okay.

And I wasn't sure I wanted to try. So why not do the easiest option? I've thought about it before. Now I can't stop. To take the knife, and slide them across my wrists. To watch my life flow from me. The way life flowed out of little Joseph's eyes when Quil stole it, the way the life of my family coated the walls of our home with crimson. I wanted to be gone, as gone as the life I dreamed of. I know some people would call me a coward. That I should have fought for my freedom. That with time I would eventually stopped seeing and hearing the things I had witnessed. Maybe it was true. But the moment, I just don't see it. I don't see a reason to fight, or to stay.

And so here I am. Quil left me alone a few hours ago. I knew I didn't have much time before he got back, so as soon as I knew he was far enough away, my hand was grasping for the knife. And, to be sure that I went as fast as I could, I cut deep. My wrists now looks like a twisted jigsaw puzzle piece. My short and hoodie are soaked. Even my thigh is covered in it. I feel so cold. It hurt so much. Yet I welcomed it. I am glad it broke through my numb haze. At least I know I'll die feeling like myself and not some emotionless shell. A soft laugh broke through my tingling, cold lips.

I thought on everything that had happened. The supposed spirits had chosen a toddler for a teenage boy to be his mate, only for her to end up being a lesbian. And said boy murders girls family to get her to come back so they can be together, only to find out it was all for naught 'cause she's gay. It's like a bad joke. I vaguely wondered what Quil would do when he found my body? Would he kill himself? Would he be relieved to be free?

As my pulse began to slow, my thoughts calmed. They settled one last time the missed opportunities. I wouldn't get to graduate college. I wouldn't get to travel, to see the world. I wouldn't get to try to get my dream job. And what sucked maybe even more than all that, was that I wouldn't get to kiss Ellie. I wouldn't get to tell her how she drove me wild, how from the first meeting I was love struck. How I wanted to pull on those sexy ruby curls of her. And I wouldn't get a chance to date someone as perfect and beautiful as her. I could have really fallen hard for that woman, I could have spent the rest of my life chasing her if needed.

But it was too late. I would bleed out here, on this cabin floor in god knows where. Even now, eyes and head felt heavy. My thoughts fuzzy. The coldness had faded. Now I just felt warm and comfortable. I'm so sleepy. God. I love you mom and dad, Uncle Sam and Aunt Emily. I'm so sorry Embry. I'm sorry I couldn't love you Quil.

I…am so…sleepy…


	6. ruined princess, guilty prince (monster)

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So we all knew from almost the beginning there wouldn't really be a happy ending. Not for Quil at least. I would like to say that sorry it's short, but Claire's is always going to be longer because of the first person point of view.**_

 _ **I do want to say that I intend for this to be the last chapter. I never intended to write this much, it was only supposed to be a one-shot. But I got a few reviews that wanted more, and inspiration struck. This is my first chapter story ever, and I'm really happy I did it.**_

 _ **I wanted to give a special shout out to Kochabilka, who has reviewed for every chapter loyally. Thank you for it, I appreciate it. I also wanted to thank XOXO Loved and Lost XOXO, MaxBacon, deadliestdistractionRN, AmutoBookwormFan, and the people who guest reviewed for reviewing and giving me your opinions. I promise you that your opinions really did help me shape my story and decide to continue on.**_

 _ **I know I said this is my last chapter. But as I said before, reviews can sway me. If anyone wants an epilogue from Claire, leave me a review. If enough leave one, I will write it, I promise. Otherwise, it is complete. Enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think.**_

He was lost. What was the purpose? Everything he thought to be true was a lie. He thought him and Claire were meant to be. His ancestors had left them with the knowledge that the imprint was to show him who his perfect match was. The pack and he had followed those guideline loyally. Not questioning the truth of meaning of the stories. His mouth quirked into a half smile.

Well, almost all the pack. Leah was the exception to the rule. The exception to every rule. There was no she-wolves. Imprinting was rare. Imprinting was meant to show you your soul mate. You couldn't be without your imprint once the bond was established. Neither party could fight the imprint. Yet every rule had been proven wrong. Leah transformed and became the first known she wolf. Almost the entire pack had imprinted. And apparently the imprint could be fought. And wrong.

 _After Claire's admission in the car, Quil felt as though a fog had lifted. All the rage and darkness that consumed him was gone. For a moment, he couldn't remember where or what he was doing. And then clarity swept through his confusion, leaving him feeling sick. He remembered the exact moment he let the wolf take control. As he lay in that forest, the pain of Claire's absence tearing him apart, and the second he realized Claire's mom helped her escape. He remembered the white hot hatred of the wolf rush to the surface. How the wolf's rage was so powerful that it broke Quil's control and took of his mind and actions. And how he fell into a sort of sleep. He could see himself committing those horrifying acts, yet he did not comprehend what was happening, the severity of the wolf's choice._

 _He felt her gaze burning holes through his skull. A quick glance brought painful memories to the forefront of his focus. His knuckles tightened on the wheel, eyes unseeing of the road. He opened his mouth to speak, but remained unable to speak. What could he say?_ _ **'I'm sorry, I didn't meant to kill your family. My inner wolf was pissed off.'**_ _Or,_ _ **'If I had known you were gay, I would not have brutally murdered your little cousins in front of you. Sorry.'**_ _Nothing he said would make it alright, it wouldn't change what he did, or take away the pain he had caused her. And make no mistake, he might not have known what he was doing, but it was still his fault. If he had been stronger, if he hadn't given into wolf, Claire would have her family. In the back of his mind, he knew that in all honesty, he could have stopped it. While the wolf was the one do the dead, it was him that spewed those pained and hateful words of his 'sacrifices.' That's something he would never, and could not forget. He could have stopped it if he tried. That fact burned him, and would be his most well-kept regret._

 _He, not for the first time, was broken once again by the supernatural. So he stayed quiet. He didn't even deserve to speak to her. So he didn't._

 _When he finally found suitable shelter, he hightailed out as fast as he could with a mumbled, "Making a food run. Be back in three hours," over his shoulder. He couldn't bear to look at her anymore. Not with her emotionless expression, bloodshot eyes, and defeated posture. Not when seeing that only viciously reminded him that he was the cause of it. He walked into the surrounding forest._ _ **(Something inside him twitched as he did, remembering just how well it went last time he walked in and out of a forest.)**_ _And for the next two hours he let it out. Everything. The anger he felt at himself and the supernatural. IT WASN'T FAIR! What had he done to deserve this? What had Claire done? The horror of what he had done. He didn't even know he was capable of this. He could still feel the way Mrs. Young's fingers broke, the crunch of bones, the sticky wet blood that spread on his hands and clothes, and the weightlessness of the two boys. Screams echoing in his head. In and around him._

 _He punched a tree, breaking his hands like the way he broke Mr. Young's hand._

 _ **-Emily screamed as though apart of her soul had been split. In the background Mrs. Young stared on in mute shock, her back sliding along the wall. He smirked as Sam's body fell by the door, his head rolling near Emily. Looking at the boys, he winked. Deciding do give them a soccer lesson, he rolled the head between his feet, once, twice, and then kicked it under the table.-**_

" _Noooo," He moaned. His hand tore at his hair, embracing the throbbing pain of his gnarled hands. Maybe if he pulled hard enough he could wake up from this monstrous nightmare._

 _ **-Mr. Young steeped in front of his wife protectively. Quil ignored him. With lightning speed, he grabbed the butcher knife off the counter and shoved it without hesitation into Emily's stomach. He pulled it out, and with mocking gentleness, stabbed her twice more. Her face filled with shock and pain. Shouting and screams rose behind him. Knife still in hand, he spun around to meet Sam head on.-**_

 _Quil choked. Fuck, how could he? Sam and Emily were like family to him. They took him in when he had no one, and he betrayed them. He fucking murdered them in front of their own children. Why had he done it? He couldn't make sense of it._

 _ **-"GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Mrs. Young ran toward her husband. Tears ran down her cheeks as she threw her body full force at Quil, attempting to stop him. However, her effort was useless when he swatted her away like an annoying insect. Her temple meet the table, and Mrs. Young descended into darkness. Mr. Young wouldn't be so lucky. 'No, Quil thought as he sunk his teeth into Mr. Young's vulnerable throat as easily as if it were made of cotton candy, 'he definitely wasn't.'-**_

 _Bile rose to Quil's own throat. His entire body ached as he vomited the contents of his now empty stomach. He pressed his tired head onto the ground. A stranger looking on would say it seemed as if though he was prostrating himself before a higher power. Perhaps in regret or sorrow. Maybe both. Quil would say there was no higher power, not if it allowed all these evil things to happen. And if there were a higher power, then it was one sadistic motherfucker who he refused to answer to if that was the case. After all, what being could watch all these horrible acts committed every day and not stop or help?_

Quil pondered this question as he agonized over what he had done. It ran through his mind as he returned to Claire, only to find her bleeding out on the cabin floor, almost lost to the fight between life and death. He thought this as he picked up her light weight, and bandaged her up to slow the bleeding. As he didn't hesitate to leave her at the nearest hospital, even as his wolf howled in panic, he still gave her up to be saved. As left her a shitty excuse for an apology note, and as he left.

He thought about it as he sat on the bed in the cabin, fingering the trigger, staring the barrel of the gun he found beneath the floor boards. And he decided, taking in the pool of dried blood to the right of him, that whatever it might be, would give him the pain he deserved. After all, if they could watch mess they called life, why wouldn't they get a kick out of torturing him for all eternity in his supposed after life? And it wouldn't be any less than he deserved. It was the only true way to make up for what he had done to Claire. Claire could live in peace knowing her families' killer was gone. That the monster had been vanquished.

His mouth twitched upwards. He remembered how Claire used to love those fairy tales when she was little. The princess was rescued by the prince, the monster was vanquished, and every one lived happily ever after. His amusement left him as quickly as it came. In real life, the princess wasn't saved by the prince. No, she was stolen by the monster in disguise, she preferred princesses over princes, and there wouldn't be anyone else to live happily after with. He had destroyed that for her too.

With steady hands he lifted the barrel to his mouth. _'At least'_ he thought _, 'I can destroy the_ _ **monster.'**_

His finger pushed the trigger. Then, nothing.


End file.
